


Cramping Up My Style

by Ultimatum



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: (basically prompto has IBS and it makes his life difficult sometimes), Angst, Chronic Illness, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, based on dialogue from duscae 2.0, mentions of eating disorders
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-23
Updated: 2018-02-09
Packaged: 2019-01-21 16:47:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12461850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ultimatum/pseuds/Ultimatum
Summary: For the longest time, Prompto just assumed that it was his anxiety making his stomach hurt.Ignis helps him figure things out, but not without some misunderstandings along the way.





	1. it comes in waves

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! for those of you that may not know, IBS stands for irritable bowel syndrome (ew, ik, thats kind of a knee jerk reaction). It's a really embarrassing illness to have, and as someone who has also gone a long time undiagnosed bc of the stigma of the symptoms, I hope some ppl can relate to this fic!
> 
> It's based on the dialogue in duscae 2.0 (idk if its in the final game, as ive never gotten it), where prompto complains about his stomach hurting, noct, in response, asks if he's taken his medicine, and prompto says he has, just that it hasnt kicked in yet. So yeah, headcanon that prompto has IBS
> 
> OK! Without further ado, hope you enjoy :D

For the longest time, Prompto can't figure out what's wrong with him. He assumes it's just his anxiety, at first. After all, stomach pain is pretty common for people who have anxiety (that's what all the forums have said on the matter) so he tries not to dwell on it. If he can manage his anxiety, which seems pretty unlikely, then it should, theoretically, improve his stomach pain. 

Right?

Well, maybe not. 

It starts when he's bettering himself. For the prince, that is. Ever since he got that letter from Lady Lunafreya (Prompto feels his heart flutter even thinking about it) he's been trying _so_ hard. Even though he tries so hard, he has some slip-ups. And those slip-ups may or may not wind up with him on his knees in front of the toilet, gripping the bowl as he gags out the food he can't _bear_ to have inside him, lest it hold him back from improvement.

This goes on until he's ready to meet the Prince, and he decides to stop. As much as he loves the burning deep in his throat and the pain he can feel throughout his whole body, ha ha, he knows it'd be dangerous to keep going now. He's already reached his goal weight, after all, and he looks pretty okay, if he dares to think so!

So he kicks purging to the curb, and sticks to watching what he eats (or he tells himself he will, he tells himself sternly that he won't do it again, despite his life showing him that it's never that easy to stop). 

He meets Noctis. They're friends, things are so _good_ for the first time Prompto can even remember.

And that's when the pain really starts.

It's sudden, sharp and cramping in his abdomen. He had just taken a bite out of something Noctis had handed to him, and not even a minute later, he's sweating with the effort it takes to hold back a grimace. He excuses himself from their desks, runs to the bathroom, and holes himself in a stall until it passes. 

_What the heck was that?_

He returns to class confused and a little worried, already exhausted from the pain, and tries to get through the end of the day. Noct comments on how pale he looks and he waves him off, insists he's fine. But at the end of the day, instead of heading to Noct's apartment, he goes home. 

Chalking it up to him getting sick or anxiety getting the best of him again, Prompto lays in bed until his stomach stops feeling so twisted. Forcing himself to eat dinner is another challenge entirely. He settles on a salad, feeling too nauseous to cook anything else, and falls asleep shortly after, but not before taking multiple trips to the bathroom that make him tired and confused.

\---

Prompto cherishes his friendship with Noct over most things in his life. Sure, Noct is a dweeb, kind of tactless and rude at times, and a _huge_ loser, but Prompto worked for this friendship. He promised Lady Lunafreya that he'd watch out for him! Ok, maybe he hadn't promised, but he'd been asked, and he was more than okay with fulfilling that request. Above all, though, Noct is his first real friend. Ever. And it's really special to him, despite how lame it feels to admit that to himself.

So he often finds himself at Noct's apartment, passing afternoons with video games and lazy conversation. It's relaxing and nice, and sometimes, Ignis is even over.

Prompto isn't too sure how he feels about Ignis. He likes the guy, sure! He thinks he's smart and witty and handsome, and cool to boot. He makes the BEST food, hands down, and he's always giving Noct a hard time, which is really funny to him. 

However, he gets a little nervous around him sometimes. He can't help but feel like Ignis is looking a little too hard at him for something, or that he's maybe judging him, or trying to figure him out. 

It makes Prompto anxious. And that makes his stomach hurt more, because there are a lot of things he's trying to hide about himself.

So he compensates by helping with chores, chopping vegetables for dinner, and washing dishes.

"Really," Ignis says with a sigh one night. "Noctis, if you even had a modicum of the cooperativeness that Prompto had, I'd be satisfied for life."

"Gotta keep you on your toes," Noctis replies from the couch as Prompto finishes up the dishes. It makes Prompto's entire face feel flushed, to be called an example, almost, and when he's done, Ignis gives him a curt smile and a nod.

"Well, thank you for your help Prompto. It's appreciated, as always."

Prompto nods dumbly and resolves to help Ignis more when he gets the chance to.

But the anxiety doesn't go away. He's afraid, afraid that he'll stop being useful as a friend to the crown prince, stop being useful to Ignis, and get kicked to the curb. So despite the support from Ignis, he feels his stomach start to gurgle, and he bolts from the kitchen to the bathroom before Noctis even has the chance to complain. 

"What was that about?" Prompto hears him say from the other side of the door.

Ignis shrugs with a blank expression, and Prompto takes deep breaths to quell the pain.

\---

Sometimes, the pain goes away, and he's mostly okay. The anxiety usually doesn't, but there are weeks when his stomach doesn't bother him much at all. Other than a few minor aches here and there, Prompto is relieved that it comes and goes. 

He's at Noct's when it "comes" again, and one moment he's eating dinner at the table with Noct and Ignis, and the next, he's excusing himself to go to the bathroom, and the pain leaves him sitting there for over twenty minutes before there's a knock at the door. 

"Prompto?"

 _Oh fuck, it's Ignis._ Prompto's eyes squeeze shut. Of all the people he'd like to see him like this, Ignis is the absolute dead last. At first, Prompto can't even bring himself to unclench his jaw, the pain is so sharp. He's afraid that if he opens his mouth, he'll groan in his agony.

"Prompto, can you hear me?"

The last thing Prompto wants is to worry Ignis, though. He hates worrying people over things that don't really matter. So he forces himself to speak, though it comes much raspier than he would have liked. "Uh, no, yeah, I can hear ya."

"Are you alright in there?"

Prompto inhales. Exhales slowly through his nose. "Yeah! I'll be out in a minute." After a few seconds of silence, he tacks on a "Sorry." instinctively.

"It's quite alright," Ignis says, though his voice is a little tight, and Prompto's gut twists even more. He really, _really_ doesn't want anyone worried about his stupid stomach aches. After another tense moment, Prompto hears footsteps receding down the hall, and he breathes a huge sigh of relief, the sweat on his forehead already feeling less oppresive. He tries to hurry, and returns to the table as quickly as possible, hoping that his bangs aren't still plastered to his forehead with sweat.

Noct looks up at him. "You alright dude?"

With a strained smile that he hopes doesn't look too fake, Prompto scratches his wrist and shrugs. "Never been better!"

He sits back down, and suddenly, the food in front of him makes his whole body rock with nausea. He really, really doesn't want to eat it if he's just going to end up back in the bathroom. But they're both just... Looking at him. Prompto's pulse thrums in his temples and he feels trapped, cornered, like they're expecting something from him. It's all too familiar to when his parents came back for a few weeks when he was actively purging. The gazes they leveled at him made him feel suspected, afraid.

He doesn't like it, so he picks up his fork, feels his stomach drop at the sight of the food, and takes a single bite before putting down the utensil.

"Do you not like it?" Ignis asks, voice absent of judgment or scorn. It still makes Prompto's skin crawl, and fears bubble to the surface. _If I'm not good enough, I won't be able to be friends with Noct anymore._

"No, Iggy, it's great, trust me! Just had a big snack earlier."

"Are you sure? I'm certain I could whip something else up for you, something more to your taste...?"

He shakes his head, smiles harder, and forces himself to take another bite, even though he can hear his stomach groaning from under the table. "Dude, it's fine, it tastes great." When they both go back to eating, Prompto nearly sighs a breath of relief.

He misses the look Ignis and Noct shoot at each other. By the time he glances up, they're both talking about stuff he doesn't understand again, but at least he isn't being scrutinized.

As they argue about royal reports and proceedings, he tries his best to at least make it _look_ like he ate. He doesn't want to worry them, but he also knows if he eats another bite, he'll end up in the bathroom again.

Eh. He could stand to lose a few more pounds anyway. If eating causes him this much pain, he's really not sure if it's worth it anymore.

By the time he leaves for the night, he feels like he's barely holding it together. 

Ignis purses his lips as the door shuts and turns to Noctis. Noct simply nods, and Ignis furrows his brows.

"It's not like he'll tell us what's wrong," Noct says, an annoyed edge to his voice. 

Ignis sighs, the added stress of Prompto's problems already weighing on him. "I'll see what I can do."

But it's not Prompto's fault, he knows it's not. He's just going to have to confront him about it.

After all, he has a few suspicions of his own.

\---

In his own home, Prompto lays in bed until two in the morning, kept awake by the uncomfortable sensation in his abdomen. He feels like someone is stabbing him repeatedly, and tears well up in his eyes as he hugs his knees to his chest.

He doesn't understand why he feels so broken, so unable to function like a normal human being. Normal people don't feel so much pain from a single meal. But normal people don't have barcodes on their wrists either. He scoffs at himself and tries to sleep, but the stress compounds over and over until he's forced to take a few more trips to the bathroom.

He doesn't let himself really cry, too afraid that he'd be opening himself up to more weakness.


	2. the problem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompto starts to avoid his friends  
> ignis has sme stuff 2 say about that

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this took so long............................ lol...................................... anyway please enjoy and happy late bday to ignis aka best boy

Weeks pass in a painful, crampy blur.

Prompto knows he’s being suspicious at this point, but he can’t help it, really! The last thing he wants is to stay at Noct’s house when he eats; if there’s anything he’s learned about whatever this “problem” he has is that it mostly acts up when he eats.

And Prompto is _pretty sure_ that ruining the Prince of Lucis’s bathroom is a big no-no, and also kind of disgusting.

So, despite his loneliness at home and the weight on his chest, Prompto ops out of eating dinner with Noct, Ignis, and Gladio whenever he can. His excuses feel stale and cheap, but he tries not to think about it too much.

He just really, really can’t let Noct, or anyone, find out.

Especially since everyone would find it, _him_ , disgusting. Ignis would probably even ban them ever hanging out again.

Okay. Maybe that was a stretch. But Prompto’s anxiety runs with it, and his brain lists all the reasons that it’s definitely possible, 100%, and he’s so stupid to think otherwise. So he guards his secret (seriously, what if it’s connected to his tattoo?), avoids eating with Noct and the guys, and tries to act as normal as possible.

Which seems to not work out at all when he gets a visitor one evening when he’s avoiding dinner with his friends.

The raps on the door are loud and sharp, and Prompto gets up from the couch and shuffles through his dim house over creaking floorboards to peek through the door viewer.

Prompto nearly bites straight through his lip when he sees that it’s Ignis, standing there with a look of determination and resolve. He lifts his hand to knock again, and Prompto swings the door open before he gets the chance.

“Oh, uh, hey Ignis! What brings you over to my humble place?”

Ignis peers around him to the dark recesses of his home and hums in thought. “I came to talk. I trust you aren’t _actually_ having dinner with your parents right now and are free to chat?”

Oh Gods. That was his excuse this time, wasn’t it? Prompto should have turned on some lights or _something_ so he wasn’t so stupidly transparent. Fuck, he’s such an idiot, how could he have been so thoughtless about his excuses?

Prompto forces a thin smile and tries to calm his racing mind. Ignis doesn’t know. He doesn’t know. It’ll be fine. “Uh. Yeah, I’m free right now.”

“Fantastic.” Ignis motions to behind Prompto and says, “Shall we, then?”

He nods, trying to mask the ache he feels forming, and steps aside to let Ignis inside. If he has any thoughts about his empty, cold home, he doesn’t say anything; for that, Prompto is grateful. But the implications of this visit hit him nonetheless, and he sits across from Ignis at the dinner table in silence.

Ignis doesn’t say anything for a while, his eyes searching Prompto’s face for something--Prompto hopes he doesn’t find anything. Trying for another grin, he says, “So, what’s up? Everything alright, Iggy?”

Ignis takes off his glasses to pinch at the bridge of his nose. Okay, that’s a no then. “No, I loathe to suspect something is terribly wrong. Do I have permission to ask a… ah. Personal question, Prompto?”

“Er, sure.” Prompto hates himself the moment he says it. He should’ve kept his mouth shut. He should’ve run or hid or something. He just _can’t bear_ Ignis knowing the disgusting secret he’s been hiding.

Or anything else, for that matter.

Ignis pauses to think before getting right to the point. “Do you have an eating disorder, Prompto?”

Prompto goes cold at the sudden memories that wash through him.

Of him, age 12, vomiting his guts out to improve himself. How he still does, sometimes, when things are too much for him. Fuck, what a pathetic thought. How foolish he was to be so weak.

“Huh? W-why would you think… That?” Prompto hates the way his voice withers by the time he’s done, the way his throat closes in on itself. His palms start feeling clammy, so he rubs his hands up and down on his pants to dry them up.

“Well.” Ignis begins, putting his glasses back on almost off-handedly. Despite trying to seem impartial, Prompto can tell by the hesitancy in his voice that he’s worried and wants to say the right thing. He tries not to entertain the voice in the back of his mind that tells him how he doesn’t deserve that worry; he’s too disgusting to worry about.

“Well… We- _I_ have noticed some things. Your reluctance to eat in front of us, your avoidance… I cannot sit by in good conscious while my charge’s good friend seems to be suffering.”

“But...”

“And before you claim nothing’s wrong, I’d like to implore you. We have the best therapists in Insomnia at our disposal. The best doctors, for that matter too.” Ignis leans forward and reaches for Prompto’s hand, taking it between his. “If anything is wrong, or if I have miscalculated, you can tell me. Beyond just being the Prince’s friend, you are _my_ friend as well.”

“I… Am?” Prompto squeaks out before he can stop himself, his entire body heating up in embarrassment. He doesn’t know what he thought his relationship with Ignis was, but he always assumed he was just more annoying than anything. Like a big old thorn in his side.

“Of course you are. So, how about I make us some tea. And you can confide in me about what’s wrong.”

“But it’s gross…” Prompto pulls a face at his own words, feeling stupid and childish for ever making this a bigger deal than he needed to be. If he had just--

“I can see your brain reeling from across the table,” Ignis squeezes his hand and lets go, standing up to set a kettle on the stove. “Noct may not be the best at reading you, nor is Gladio. But even those two can sense something’s amiss, and if something _is_ wrong, you’re entitled to care and attention. Yes?”

“I mean.” Prompto shrugs. “I guess.” _Don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry_ “I just don’t really think I’m worth the fuss, hah.”

“I beg to differ. And I’m always right.” Ignis gives a tight but caring smile at the joke, and Prompto sniffs to keep the tears back.

“Yeah, guess you’re right.”

“That I am.”

Once the kettle starts whistling, Ignis pulls some cups from the cupboards and pours them both a glass. “It’s no Ebony, but I suppose the caffeine will suffice. Would you like Chamomile or Echinacea?”

“Oh, uh, Echinacea please.”

Ignis hums again and brings him a mug. After sitting down across from him again, Prompto feels the anxiety start to gnaw at him. He tries to chase the feeling down by drinking some of his tea, but it doesn’t work as he hopes. _Remember what he said. You’re worthy of attention. Worthy of attention._

“I’m ready whenever you are,” Ignis says, voice gentle and slow. “Remember, I will _not_ judge you, no matter what you disclose.”

“Uh, thanks, Ignis. But first I just wanna tell you that I don’t have an eating disorder, so really, don’t worry about that.” Ignis’s eyebrows go up in apparent surprise, and Prompto scrambles to explain. “I mean, I probably used to, I guess…? I’d, uh, throw up a lot, but that’s behind me now, I swear! I don’t do that anymore.” Mostly, anyway.

“Apologies if this is insensitive, but eating disorders hardly go away that easily, especially without treatment.”

“Yeah, I guess. I still have uh… Some troubles with that. But nothing too huge, I swear! I’m not like, an anorexic teenage girl on the brink or death or anything.”

Ignis shoots him a look. “I trust you know how wrong that sounds?”

Prompto feels himself deflate in defeat. “Ugh. I dunno. Yeah? It’s okay, though. I promise. That’s not, um… All, though.”

Ignis reaches over again, placing his hand down on the table next to Prompto’s. The support gives him the courage to keep going, so he tries to ignore his self-hatred and blurts: “Like I said. It’s pretty gross.”

“Remember, Prompto. No judgment.”

“Hoo. Okay. Hah. It’s just, um… When I eat things?” Prompto feels his face flush again as he tries to articulate. “I get like, a lot of gas to the point where I’m like, hunched over in pain. And at first I thought it was maybe an allergy, but it’s like… everything I eat that hurts me? Gods this is so gross, how are you even listening to this--”

“With my ears,” Ignis says gently, reaching to grab his hands again. “Go on?”

“And, um, I get a lot of… Bathroom pain? I have to go like, right after I eat sometimes? And it just. Hurts a lot I guess. So I’m really sorry if I’ve been avoiding you guys, it’s just kinda been hard to do stuff because I’m afraid of whatever’s wrong with me, y’know? I’m afraid of the uh… Embarrassment.”

Ignis nods his head, “Have you considered getting tested? Sounds like a digestive problem, to me. Nothing to be ashamed of, surely; it is just your body, after all. And I’m sure some prescription medication and dietary changes can help if we can figure out what the matter is.”

“Yeah, but that’s the thing.” Prompto grimaces. Here in front of the, like, _hottest_ and surely one of the richest guys, and he can’t even afford to go to the doctor or buy himself medication. How obvious can he make it that he doesn’t belong with them? How obvious can he make it that Ignis should just boot him from Noct’s life? “I can’t really afford all that stuff.”

Cold understanding makes its way onto Ignis’s face, and Prompto immediately goes into “comfort mode” to make up for the expression on his friend’s face that he caused. “No, but it’s okay, I swear! I’ll just get another job, right? I can probably fit in some hours between--”

“Prompto, I’m terribly sorry for being so presumptuous. But I can’t let you take another job on top off everything else you’ve been doing, it simply isn’t healthy. Come to the citadel, our doctors can treat you and medicate you for free.”

“But I can’t just take advantage of my friendship with Noct like that!” He protests. “It’s not right, I shouldn’t get special treatment!”

“Oh, for the love of--” Ignis takes a deep breath. “It makes me a bit sad that you speak so lowly of yourself.” He tries to apologize, but Ignis keeps going. “You are _not_ taking advantage of Noctis. If you were, I would have told you. Prompto, you are one of the most selfless people on Eos; I’m offering, no, _insisting_ you take up my offer. If not for yourself, for me, Noctis, and Gladio, who miss you terribly at dinner.”

“You guys miss me?”

“Extremely so. Noct is downright miserable to be around when you aren’t there to convince him to eat his vegetables.”

Prompto finds himself smiling a little at the jab, but another worry hits him. “But I really should pay you back--”

Raising his hand in a placating manner, Ignis shakes his head. “If it truly means that much to you, you can help me prepare dinner every now and then to “make up for it”, but you already do that. All we want is for you to feel comfortable around us again.”

Prompto swallows tersely, mulling over and considering the offer. He _was_ in a lot of pain... “Ok. I’ll get tested.”

Ignis’s smile is worth it, Prompto thinks. Even if he still feels disgusting and unnatural, Ignis doesn’t seem to hate him. Is it enough? Maybe.

For now, it’ll have to do, though.

\--

Later that night, after having 7 vials for blood drawn for a bunch of different diseases and disorders, Prompto collapses in bed and shoots out a text to Ignis.

_Thanks. For everything ^^_

The response is almost instant: _It was no trouble at all. :-)_

The little emoticon is enough to make a wide, wide smile break out on his face. What a goof.

As if sensing his thoughts, he gets a sudden text from Noctis. It only says: _oh btw you two are sooo gross, gag_ and he feels solemnity build inside of him. Ha ha. More like he was the gross one and Ignis was only humoring him.

You: _Ha as if_

Nowoctis: _I’m the one who has to watch you guys dance around each other all the time! just make a move dude_

You: _no way, he def doesnt like me like that, ok?_

Nowoctis: _He totally does, but w/e_

Nowoctis: _Anyway are you ok? Igs said he went to talk to you today, and youve been acting kinda weird lately. he said everything went well, but_

You: _Awww are you worried abt me?_

Nowoctis: _duh, youre my best friend_

You: _:9 right back at you man_

You: _But yea. everythings okay, ill tell you about it later, iggy just did me a solid. I was being kinda dumb, got lost in my own head for a while there_

Nowoctis: _it happens, no sweat, but I’m glad everythings ok. you rlly do need to tell specs about how you feel though. I feel like I’m getting tooth decay from watching this pining go on_

You: _ok wise romance guru_

Prompto huffs a humorless laugh and puts his phone down on his chest. Ok, so he does have a crush on Ignis, it’s hard not to, but there was no way he returns his feelings. Closing his eyes, he tries to feel content about his day.

And he definitely doesn’t dream of Ignis holding his hands.

Nope. Definitely not.

\--

A week later, he gets a diagnosis. Irritable Bowel Syndrome. Or IBS, which he would definitely be calling it, because there was no way he was going to say the word _bowel_ if he could help it. He gets some pills to reduce his stomach acid, a list of foods he shouldn’t be eating, and some consultation from the citadel doctor.

It feels like he can finally articulate what’s wrong with him, or more like, what he _has_ : a common digestive problem. There may be no cure, but he can improve his lifestyle choices to keep the pain down, and over the weeks that pass, the pills start to work and Prompto feels like he’s finally living again.

Ignis gives him a card for a therapist if he has any more problems with his eating disorder (he tries to admit it to himself. if never went away, did it?) and he finally feels like he’s ready to confront his past. Minus the tattoo, of course, that’s something he doesn’t think he can ever reveal or deal with.

Noctis understands. Gladio understands. Ignis does, too. He changes up recipes, makes more gluten and dairy free meals for them when he’s over, and Prompto just feels so _loved_ and considered for that he can’t help but cry about it, sometimes.

Alone, of course

He’s never deserved this. Not from anyone. But he wants to.

And he knows that he can only deserve it if he gets better.

At the dinner table, Ignis and Gladio are bickering when he gets a stomach cramp and excuses himself. By the time he gets back, no one acts any differently towards him. Ignis shoots him a smile, understanding and sweet, and Noctis kicks him under the table as if saying _SEE? SEE?_

Yeah, he can keep on hoping, that’s for sure. Ignis is just being a good friend, that’s all.

But for now, things are okay, and for the first time in a while, Prompto lets himself accept that he’s accepted. It feels good and he knows he wants it to last.

So he calls the therapist’s number that evening, schedules a meeting, and sends a goodnight text to Ignis letting him know what he’s planning.

In the morning, the text on his screen saying _I’m very proud_ is enough to make him soar for hours.

He’ll do this for himself, sure, but it doesn’t hurt that he has someone else he wants to get better for, too.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! come yell at me abt prompto on my twitter @hipdads


End file.
